


Mood

by DealingDearie



Category: X-Men (Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 10:37:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DealingDearie/pseuds/DealingDearie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Storm isn't feeling too happy and everyone knows it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mood

It wasn’t hard to tell that she was unhappy. One only needed to cast a wary, dread-filled gaze at the sky above, gray and toiling and painted heady with the promise of rain and the fleeting, powerful crackling of light, to know just what kind of mood had befallen, sometimes regrettably so, the white-haired mutant.

It seemed glaringly apparent, really, and on most days the sunlight could grace the windows of the school, dappling the hardwood and painting it golden, bathing the rooms in a warm, cozy glow.

That meant she was happy, perhaps overly so, but it amounted, simultaneously and thankfully, to everyone else’s happiness, relieved that they didn’t have to be cooped up inside as the wind raged and howled against the window panes.

But today, they were forced to do just that, students idly crossing arms and huffing quietly to themselves for lack of a better thing to do, not wanting to disturb her and worsen her mood. Her emotions were always things of turmoil, conflicting swirls of feeling fighting against each other and twisting her insides all wrong, elusive things with mysterious origins. That was the main reason why no one dared approach her on “those days”, and Ororo Munroe was all too aware of the fact.

It elicited within her a twinge of guilt, made her regret her darkening moods, but she couldn’t help herself, and so it only worsened. The sky only stormed on, the rain only pounded harder against the roof, and the wind only grew fiercer, even vengeful, just like Ororo herself.

Her namesake was an apt one, the title they’d given her when she joined the band of mutants, the name that spoke to her somewhere deep inside and sang to her comfortingly when she needed the lullabies the most. It was a reminder that she was something special, that she had a duty to help others less fortunate, that she had to pity them rather than subject them to her wrath-as she’d learned from Kurt, in that one year so long ago, so very far behind her, so very dream-like and distant.

Standing at the foot of her bed, eyes gazing blankly out the window as the white nearly swallowed those dark brown irises, snowy stare as cold as the raindrops pelting the ground. With her hair tumbling down her back in long, colorless strands streaked with dark slivers of grey and flipped stylishly at the ends, she crossed her arms absently, observing her own handiwork. It had been unintentional, but the storm within had quickly become the one around her, and the mocha skin framing her mouth wrinkled as she frowned deeply, distracted.

She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she’d spoiled the day for all of her students, and the thought only angered the thunder and excited the lightning.

Behind her, a soft, gentle rapping came at the bedroom door, and she turned, eyes wide and quickly returning to that familiar, normal color of dark brown, to see Rogue, carefully and cautiously leaning against the doorframe with her hand on the knob, as if she’d just opened the door the slightest to make sure everything was safe, her head halfway in the room as she peeked hesitantly to take a look.

At the sight of a calming Ororo, the young girl seemed to relax, and slid the rest of the way into the room, her gloved hands shoved deep into the small pockets of her jeans in a futile effort to look placating, and smiled in that friendly, hospitable way of hers, the white streak in her dark, wavy hair brightened by the overhead lights.

“You know,” she started, her southern accent drawn out and slow, the nervousness shining in her eyes failing to reach her voice, her pale, milky skin illuminated in the shadows cast by the darkening light sneaking in through the window, “when I have an off day, I just try to make myself smile. I know it sounds crazy,” she explained softly, rolling her eyes and smirking at herself.

“But it works-I promise.”

Quickly, as if there was something that needed to be done, the young mutant walked over to reach out with a slender arm and press a comforting, warm palm on Storm’s shoulder, squeezing gently before she pulled back.

Ororo watched her leave and close the door behind her, and was left alone to turn back to the window, closing her eyes and remembering what the girl had said. She forced the corners of her lips to turn up, forced herself to feel that smile pull at her mouth, forced the muscles in her face to work, forced her mind into thinking it was content, and the relentless pounding of raindrops outside dwindled down to silence.

Opening her eyes to look around her, she saw that the sobbing clouds had parted for the shy, seeking sun to shed warm, trickling rays of light upon the ground, and they swept away the shadows in the room, heating her face and making her grin widen. In the next few minutes of standing there, in those moments of watching the kids slowly sneak outside, tracing the relieved and excited smiles spreading on their faces as some flew through the air and as some ran laps around the ball court in seconds, all laughing beneath the sunshine that grew stronger with every minute passed, Storm saw, from a distance, a large, distinct rainbow sweeping across the sky’s canvas, darting past the clouds and painting the sky with colors, basking in the aftermath of the rain as it shone in the sunlight against the backdrop of pale blue.

She stopped concentrating on her expression and instead focused on the sound of laughter caught down the hall and the muffled, eager footfalls, and her smile stayed, even widened, as the sun smiled down on them, and she took a deep, cleansing breath. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please R&R! Feedback of any kind is always appreciated! ;)
> 
> All rights go to their respective owners.


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